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The engine of his Aston Martin has barely stopped turning in the time that
James Bond has nipped into his ancestral pile and changed into a Barbour
jacket.

In Skyfall’s Scottish scenes, played against a backdrop of mountains
and mist-shrouded moors, audiences are led to believe that Bond’s Barbour
has been hanging under the stairs for years, a tatty relic of a previous
life spent trudging across the heath, shotgun in hand, shooting at grouse.

No other item of clothing could project such an image — certainly not the Tom
Ford suit he arrived in — but appearances can be deceptive.